CHAPTER XII A PRISONER OF LOVE

HEN Eric betook himself to the orchard the next evening he had to admit that he felt rather

nervous. He did not know how the Gor- dons would receive him and certainly the reports he had heard of them were not encouraging, to say the least of it. Even Mrs. Williamson, when he had told her where he was going, seemed to look upon him as one bent on bearding a lion in his den.

“ I do hope they won’t be very uncivil to you, Master,” was the best she could say.

He expected Kilmeny to be in the or- chard before him, for he had been delayed by a call from one of the trustees; but she was nowhere to be seen. He walked across it to the wild cherry lane; but at

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